Settling The Score
by fainche
Summary: Tom makes some ill-advised comments about... stuff, and a visitor from Sunnydale helps Jane and Daria to settle the score.


Settling the Score

"Daria! Is that you?"

Daria considered hiding in the freezer for a moment, but capitulated. "Yeah."

"Come in here."

That was Quinn, Daria thought with a sigh. A little smarter, a little deeper, but as imperious as ever. She made her way into the living room, a large sandwich on a plate in her hand. "What do you want?"

Quinn was sitting on a floor cushion next to her pig-tailed friend. Stacy, Daria was pretty sure. The teary one. Quinn gestured at Stacy. "Go on."

Stacy cast a slightly confused - or was that frightened? - look at Quinn.

Quinn sighed. "Just tell her what you told me."

"Oh. Well, ok. Hi, Daria." She waved a little.

"Hi, Stacy." Play nice with the unfortunates, she reminded herself.

"Well, I went to this dance they held at the country club last night - it was so cool, and I had the greatest dress. I think it was even better than Callie Park's, and I know my hair was better -"

"Quinn." Daria interrupted. "Why do I need to hear this?"

Quinn ignored her sister, and spoke quietly to Stacy. "The other bit, you know..."

"Oh, yeah! Sorry!"

"That's fine!" Daria assured her quickly, forestalling the possibility of tears. "Just go on."

"Well, the Sloane's were there - and," she turned to Quinn, "Elsie had the ugliest necklace I've ever seen. But anyway, her brother was there too. You know, Tom."

"We only broke up a week ago, Stacy. Yes, I know Tom."

"Well, he was talking."

"I'd expect him to be."

"About you. I mean, not just you. But some of the stuff he was saying was about you... and your friend, too... Jane?"

"What 'stuff' exactly?" Daria asked.

"You know..." Stacy said, throwing pleading glances at Quinn. "...stuff..."

"Quinn! Translate." Well, what do you know, Daria thought, hiding a smirk, Quinn's not the only Morgendorffer who can do imperious.

"Stuff, like..." Quinn looked extremely uncomfortable, but Daria couldn't enjoy it because she was too curious about this oft-mentioned 'stuff'. "...what you two did together. And Jane. By the way, Daria, is there something you want to tell me?" Quinn held up a hand. "Second thoughts, don't."

Daria stared at her sister. "Stuff Tom and I did together... like... sex stuff?"

Quinn shuddered. Stacy, finally piped up. "And Jane."

"Hang on. Tom and I and Tom and Jane?"

Stacy shook her head slowly.

"Tom, Jane and I." Daria concluded flatly. Rat-skunk-bastard.

Equally slowly, Stacy nodded

Quinn's delicate nose remained wrinkled.

"Are you sure about this?"

"I heard him. And three other people told me, too."

Daria stood up, sandwich forgotten, and grabbed her jacket. "I'm going to Jane's."

"Daria, are you..." Quinn's voice trailed off as the front door closed.

* * *

Daria waited on the doorstep until the door finally opened. "Hey Trent."

"Hey, Daria. Janey's in the living room."

"Thanks, Trent."

Jane was kneeling on the floor, drawing an intricate design on a piece of butcher's paper with a black marker, referring frequently to a very old book at her side. She glanced up. "Hey, Daria. Isn't this cool?"

"What is it?"

Jane handed Daria the book and pulled herself up onto the sofa. "I was going through some of Mom's stuff in the attic and found this. It's all spells and mystic crap like that. I can't even read half of it. But I saw this -" she gestured at the paper, "- and something similar will work great in the background of this painting I'm doing. I just need to see it blown up."

"Never let it be said that I stopped you blowing something up."

Jane smirked and went back to work on the floor. 

Daria continued looking through the book. In the margin, some one - Amanda Lane, presumably - had scribbled, 'Anyanka - Vengeance Demon - Summoning Spell' and then, under that, an unhappy face.

"Can I have that?"

"Sure. Sorry." Daria handed the book back to Jane.

"So what brings you here, friend?"

"Stacy and Quinn are at home."

Jane nodded, understandingly. "That'd be enough to drive anyone out."

"I was talking to them."

"Don't tell me. It gets better... worse..."

"Stacy was at some country club dance with Tom last night."

"Oh?"

"Oh." Daria said grimly. "She overheard him talking. About..." She hesitated, unable to bring herself to say the words.

"Let me guess... it's traditionally known as 'locker room talk'."

"Yep."

"Bastard."

Daria sighed. "He's not really that bad. I can't believe he did this though."

"Stacy wouldn't have the guts, brains or motive to lie." Jane pointed out. "Bastard." She frowned at Daria. "And forgive me for finding it easier to make him the bad guy, ok?"

Daria nodded slowly. It was easier. "Bastard."

"That's the spirit." Jane stood up to take in the whole of her work. "This is very cool." She glanced at Daria, who was looking at the page she had copied the design from. Jane handed her the book. "Can you read that?"

Daria's forehead was creased in concentration. "It's Dutch, I think. I can translate a few words here and there..."

"Well, read it for me." She laughed at Daria's expression. "Come on, it'll be fun. You don't think it's actually going to work do you?"

Daria cast a doubtful look at the design, then torturously began to phonetically read the summoning spell._"_Zij die tegen oproepen op zij gezondigd is die genoegdoening herstellen zal_." _As Daria read, a soft breeze began to swirl through the living room. Jane glanced around, a slight frown on her face, but motioned to Daria to continue. "Hij heeft gezondigd. Ik oproep Anyanka om in evenwicht de schalen te brengen._" _As Daria spoke the last word, the breeze culminated in a small whirlwind based over the centre of the design, then dissipated suddenly in a small shower of sparks.

Nothing happened.

When nothing continued to happen, Jane exhaled heavily. "Well, that was a little odd."

"Yeah." Daria stood up, eager to brush off the unusual events of the past five minutes. "Anything on TV?"

* * *

They had watched one episode of Sick Sad World, and were half way through Big Bad Galaxy, when the doorbell rang.

Hesitantly, Jane rose and opened the door. "Yes? Hello?"

A small, slim woman stood on the welcome mat. Or where the welcome mat would be, had the Lanes ever bothered with such a thing. "Hi. I'm Anya." Her eyes fell on the drawing on the lounge room floor. "You called?" 

Wordlessly, Jane stepped back from the door, and Anya walked past her. She seated herself on the sofa, smiled pleasantly at Daria and Jane and reintroduced herself. "I'm Anyanka, and I'll be the demon wreaking vengeance for you today. How can I help?"

Daria and Jane exchanged silent stares.

"Ok then." Anya rolled her eyes. "Which one of you summoned me?"

"Both of us, I guess." Daria said quietly.

"And who are you?"

"Daria."

"Jane."

"And you wish vengeance on a male?"

"Yeah..."

"What were you thinking? I have a nice line in evisceration, although many women prefer something in the way of transformation so that they can witness the male's pain. Castration, of course, is a classic."

"No!" Jane yelped, then reconsidered for a moment. "No." She repeated, less certainly.

"No castration." Anya sighed. "I see you're the squeamish type." 

"Um, can I ask a question?" Daria half-raised her hand.

"Of course. I always like my cursers to take part in the process. What did you want to know?"

"Is it usual for demons to drive?"

Anya's face darkened. She sighed. "Usually I'd teleport, but I had my privileges taken off me last week. It was quicker to drive than to do the paperwork." She stared past Jane to the doorway. "Is this the male?"

"No, that's -"

"Whoa, Janey, who's the chick?"

"Who are you calling a chick? I am Anyanka, the great and terrible, who has seen a millennium come and go, she of -"

"Aah, Trent. Probably not a good idea to offend her."

For along moment, Trent just stared, a little dumbfounded, perhaps, although it was hard to tell. Then, considering the circumstances, he did the only sensible thing. He stuck out his hand. "I'm Trent." A beat. She shook it. "Nice hair."

"Do you really like it? I'm not so sure. I think it's the reason I'm not getting any sex."

Again, Trent, behaved reasonably. He began to back away. "Uh, no, really, it's cool. Great hair." There was something weird about this girl...

"Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you're actually more than a little frightening." Jane suggested, as, in the background, Trent took the opportunity to flee.

Anya sighed. "There was a time when strong women were worshipped, not intimidating."

"Really? What was that like?"

"I didn't say I was around then. Now, tell me about this male you wish vengeance on."

"Tom." They said in unison.

"He dated me."

"He kissed me."

"He dumped me."

"He went out with me."

"He -"

"Wait a minute." Anya frowned at Daria. "You went out with him?" She turned to Jane. "I only do vengeance on men, but I have a friend who can take care of this one for you, if you want. Hallie!"

Jane cast a long, speculative look at Daria. Daria squirmed uncomfortably. Jane smiled. "No, no it's ok. Bridge. Water. Under. Preferably Tom under bridge and in water."

"Are you Catholic?" Anya inquired.

"Huh? Uh, no. I'm, I'm not religious. Why?"

"Because they only canonise Catholics, you know."

"Oh. I'll... keep that in mind."

"So, no vengeance on the backstabbing friend. Continue telling me about the male."

Not, Daria thought, even Miss Barch could quite manage that particular inflection on that last word.

"Ok, well, after all that, Daria dumped him and he started trash talking her -"

"Us." Daria interrupted.

"What? Why didn't you mention this before?"

Daria shrugged.

"Me too." Jane said wonderingly, then a thought occurred to her. "As in him and me, too?"

Daria shook her head.

"As in..."

Daria nodded. 

"Ok, the bastard's going down. He said stuff - told lies - about us to his country club buddies."

Anya started. "What?"

Jane frowned. "Um, country club buddies?"

"Oh, I thought you mentioned rabbits. Never mind."

"What's wrong with rabbits?"

Anya turned a thousand year old glare on Daria. "What's right with them?"

"Ok..."

"It seems like a valid claim. Now, just make your vengeance wish. Be creative."

Daria glanced at Jane. "This never ends well in fairy tales."

"Oh, but that's djinni. Don't mess with them. Vengeance demons are very different." Anya interposed.

"I wish -"

"No." Daria interrupted. "We have to talk about this. You won't do anything until we decide, will you?"

"No, take your time. Got anything to eat?" Anya headed into the kitchen.

"No!" The two girls yelled together. Jane continued. "Don't eat anything from there. Bad stuff happens. We could order some pizza."

* * * 

__

Later...

"But only until the end of the year." Daria cautioned. "You can do that, right? Put a time limit on it?"

"Sure, sure. But I really think we should revisit the idea of making him wear his spleen as a necklace. I've done it before. Highly amusing."

Daria and Jane exchanged looks. "No, that's ok. We'll take your word for it."

* * * 

__

The Next Morning...

Tom felt irresistibly drawn to a house not so very far from his own. He walked the whole way, without really thinking about it. He pressed the doorbell, not knowing why he did so. The next moment, when the door opened, all his questions were answered. He fell to his knees, pressed his lips against her incredibly fashionable sandals.

"Sandi, beautiful Sandi, please say there's some small service I can do for you."

* * * 

Author's Notes: Buffy and Quinn are, of course, friends. They met on a shopping expedition. That's what Quinn was referring to in Speedtrapped - Buffy was coming for a visit... 

I know California is one of the least popular possible addresses for Lawndale, and the conjecture that it is close to Sunnydale was based entirely on something I once heard in a Buffy episode, though I haven't yet found out which one, and am coming to accept the possibility that I hallucinated that particular reference...

Excuse my freetranslation.com Dutch. I wanted something Daria couldn't even begin to decipher.

Unbeta'd. My apologies.

Disclaimer: Most likely, anything you recognise is not mine. They belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy, to Glenn Eichler and MTV, and to Douglas Adams. You spotted that little homage stuck in the middle, didn't you?


End file.
